


A Dark and Stormy Night

by anticyclone



Series: Radio Days [1]
Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Eden - Freeform, Humor, In the Beginning, Innuendo, M/M, Radio Good Omens, Radio Omens, Snake Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23950213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticyclone/pseuds/anticyclone
Summary: "I know that's rude in 'snake,'" Aziraphale grumbles. "You are fortunate that I am so kind-hearted as to offer you shelter. You have your own wings."In the beginning, there's a dark and stormy night. There's also an angel and a smoky-voiced demon who have to weather it out. Why not together?
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Radio Days [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728460
Comments: 16
Kudos: 106
Collections: Good Omens Celebration





	A Dark and Stormy Night

"What wass _oh, it'sss you_ about anyway?" Crawly asks.

Aziraphale opens one eye. It is still a dark and stormy night. He pulls his wings in closer around them, so there's no longer a gap for the wind to blow cold rain in on their faces. Of course this means he also cuts off their view of the Garden. Crawly's head emerges from where he'd tucked it under his coils and he aims yellow eyes up at Aziraphale's face. Otherwise, he is a black pile of scales in Aziraphale's lap. His tongue flicks out and waggles before drawing back in.

"I know that's rude in 'snake,'" Aziraphale grumbles. "You are fortunate that I am so kind-hearted as to offer you shelter. You have your own wings."

Crawly looks as skeptical as a snake can look. "You know _what'ss_ rude in ssnake?"

"That-" Aziraphale wiggles his hand. "Tongue. Movement."

All spine, Crawly raises his head up to be level with Aziraphale's. Then he twists the long line of his body so he's staring at Aziraphale upside-down. "Aziraphale," he says, slowly, each syllable resting on his tongue like it's separate and precious in the terrible way that makes Aziraphale feel… _cozy._ "Have you been talking to the other snakess?"

"There are three thousand eight hundred and sixty-two varieties of snake. Of course I've had conversations with some of them."

"Mmm." Crawly does not straighten his head back up.

Instead he lunges forward.

If Aziraphale didn't know for a fact that Crawly was non-venomous and also not foolish enough to bite the person whose lap he's coiled in, he would have flinched. Crawly's head is approximately the size of Aziraphale's fist, and he uses it to bump Aziraphale's arm and duck underneath. He slides across Aziraphale's back, and then over his stomach - oh! - and then across Aziraphale's back again, so he's wrapped once around Aziraphale's torso. Satisfied with his new position, he rests his scaly chin on Aziraphale's shoulder. The thick length of his body presses cooly against Aziraphale's robe.

"Mmm," Crawly hums again. His tongue flicks against Aziraphale's neck. "You know what would be handy right about now?"

"Hands?" Aziraphale asks, primly.

Crawly's body ripples. He squeezes Aziraphale's torso. It's an odd sensation. It makes Aziraphale's heart speed up. Crawly grumbles, "That wass low."

"We both know that you have a form with hands, as well as wings." Aziraphale takes a couple of short breaths and clears his throat. "You're just taking shelter under mine to be lazy. Typical demon."

"Aziraphale," Crawly murmurs. "I'm hardly using your handss. I already know what _that'ss_ like."

"Hush, you," Aziraphale protests, over serpentine chuckles.

Crawly hums and squeezes him again, harder this time, nuzzling the scaled curve of his head against Aziraphale's bare throat. Aziraphale's breath catches. The loops of Crawly's body criss-crossing his lap suddenly feel much heavier than they did a moment ago.

Crawly says, "I was going to say your _sword._ You know. With the warm holy flames."

Outside, the wind picks up. It howls along the top of the Wall and hits them so hard it makes Aziraphale's wings rustle. He wrinkles his nose and flicks his wrist, gently suggesting that the rain curve around the dome of his wings instead of hitting it head on. It's not quite a regulation miracle, but, well, all the manuals were written while Eden remained humanity's domain.

Nothing's quite regulation anymore.

"Do you think they're all right?" he sighs. He tries to shift his weight but can't with Crawly looped back and forth on his legs.

"Who? Adam and Eve?"

"Yes. You talked to them more than… More than any of us. Do you think that they're faring well in the storm? Only I never had to use the sword in the rain. There wasn't rain, before. What if it doesn't hold up? What if it goes out? It's so cold, and dark…" Aziraphale anxiously twists his fingers together, then realizes there's nowhere to put his hands back down besides Crawly. He picks what seems like an innocuous spot to rest his palms.

Crawly is quiet for a long time. If he's breathing, snake breaths are too quiet to hear over the storm.

Finally he says, "Yeah. Bet they're ssswell."

"I do hope so."

"Don't worry about it, angel."

Aziraphale risks peeking out of his wings. The sky is dark all over. He wishes he had bothered going to any of Michael's meteorology seminars. It had seemed so unimportant at the time, when the forecast had predicted sun for ages. "I think we're going to be stuck here for some time."

"Won't catch me complaining."

"No," Aziraphale says, as Crawly nuzzles the curve of his throat again. He runs the edge of his hand along Crawly's scales. It gets him a pleased intake of breath in his ear and Crawly's long, muscular body gently squeezing his torso. "I suppose I won't."


End file.
